th Prodigal for being a fool: he is not ashamed
of himself for being a curmudgeon. What? a young man with such
opportunities throw them away? A fortune spent amongst gamblers and
spendthrifts? Horrible, horrible! Take warning, my child, by this
unfortunate young man's behaviour, and see the consequences of
extravagance. According to the great and always Established Church of
the Pharisees, here is an admirable opportunity for a moral discourse,
and an assertion of virtue. "And to think of his deceiving us so!" cries
out Lady Warrington.

"Very sad, very sad, my dear!" says Sir Miles, wagging his head.

"To think of so much extravagance in one so young!" cries Lady
Warrington. "Cards, bets, feasts at taverns of the most wicked
profusion, carriage and riding horses, the company of the wealthy and
profligate of his own sex, and, I fear, of the most iniquitous persons
of ours."

"Hush, my Lady Warrington!" cries her husband, glancing towards the
spotless Dora and Flora, who held down their blushing heads, at the
mention of the last naughty persons.

"No wonder my poor children hide their faces!" mamma continues. "My
dears, I wish even the existence of such creatures could be kept from
you!"

"They can't go to an opera, or the park, without seeing 'em, to be
sure," says Sir Miles.

"To think we should have introduced such a young serpent into the
bosom of our family! and have left him in the company of that guileless
darling!" and she points to Master Miles.

"Who's a serpent, mamma?" inquires that youth. "First you said cousin
Harry was bad: then he was good: now he is bad again. Which is he, Sir
Miles?"

"He has faults, like all of us, Miley, my dear. Your cousin has been
wild, and you must take warning by him."

"Was not my elder brother, who died--my naughty brother--was not he wild
too? He was not kind to me when I was quite a little boy. He never gave
me money, nor toys, nor rode with me, nor--why do you cry, mamma? Sure I
remember how Hugh and you were always fight----"

"Silence, sir!" cry out papa and the girls in a breath. "Don't you know
you are never to mention that name?"

"I know I love Harry, and I didn't love Hugh," says the sturdy little
rebel. "And if cousin Harry is in prison, I'll give him my half-guinea
that my godpapa gave me, and anything I have--yes, anything,
except--except my little horse--and my silver waistcoat--and--and
Snowball and Sweetlips at home--and--and, yes, my custard afte